


Us One

by darlingred1



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Anal Play, Bondage, Consent Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Name-Calling, Other, Overstimulation, Painplay, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Public Sex, Rimming, Sounding, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 02:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16461935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingred1/pseuds/darlingred1
Summary: The way Eddie figured it, what was the point of living with a symbiote inside you if you weren’t going to make full, dirty use of his…attributes?(Porn. Just porn.)





	Us One

**Author's Note:**

> Note the Consent Play tag. There's a lot of "Eddie getting off on the idea of his 'no' being ignored," which could be triggering for some.

The way Eddie figured it, what was the point of living with a symbiote inside you if you weren’t going to make full, dirty use of his…attributes?

Or at least that was what he told himself now, pinned to his own bed because he’d woken up horny, which meant that Venom was horny, and Venom didn’t know the meaning of the word _moderation_.

“I’m gonna be late,” Eddie said. Tried to say. Managed mostly to say minus the guttural “uhhh” that cut off the last word when Venom clamped one of his little tentacle-type things around Eddie’s dick and squeezed. “I just got this job. I can’t—”

**You can. _We_ can.**

Venom gave another squeeze, hard enough that Eddie’s feet tried to kick reflexively and got pinned down as ruthlessly as his upper body.

**We like this.** Only a few of Venom’s most basic oil-slick tendrils had appeared, nothing resembling a head, so his voice was only a rumble inside Eddie’s own mind. Somehow it was all the more powerful for it. **Being held down. We like it very much.**

Another, thinner tentacle split from the others and circled the tip of Eddie’s cock. It was barely a brush at first, but when Eddie jerked with a whine, the touch grew more firm and sure. It swept back and forth over the head, dipped into the slit, and flicked at every drop of precome it teased out.

“Not like that,” Eddie said. “That, it’s…way too sensitive. You—”

He broke off with a wail when Venom gave up with the teasing and exploring and just started polishing Eddie’s cock head in earnest. If he hadn’t been held down, he’d have been thrashing, struggling, fighting, but there was nothing to do when Venom had him like this. He could only moan and gnaw his lip and take it.

**Yes. Eddie. Like this. We want it to hurt. Don’t we?**

And there it was: a tingly, tense sensation near his shoulder that preceded Venom’s head rising and looping around so he was staring Eddie right in the face. Those milky eyes, those needle-sharp teeth—they were simultaneously alien and deeply familiar, and Eddie was quickly losing the ability to lie to him.

**Don’t we, Eddie?**

“Yes,” Eddie said with a whimper, and jolted in Venom’s hold when the tentacle polished faster.

 

* * *

 

The problem was that, although Eddie’s sexual history was pretty tame, all things considered, his fantasy life was not. And Venom had access to it all. Venom scoured the darkest depths of Eddie’s desires and rifled through what he found like people flipped through gossip rags.

Then he wanted to talk about it.

**You don’t want to be able to say no. You want the choice taken out of your hands completely.**

And with Venom’s voice booming in Eddie’s skull like a bullhorn, Eddie couldn’t ignore him no matter how hard he tried.

“It’s a fantasy. Doesn’t necessarily mean I want to do it. It’s just for me to think about.”

**For _us_ to think about.**

Eddie didn’t argue because it was true. He was starting to believe there would never be an Eddie Brock without Venom, and he was surprisingly on board with that. They worked. They felt good together: right.

He’d barely returned to his interview notes when Venom was sending snippets of old hentai through his mind.

**Look at how perfectly we fit, Eddie. So many ‘tentacles’ in here. You craved us long before we even conceived of each other.**

“Dude. Tentacle porn is basically inescapable. Another thing that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

**You want it.** More flashes, this time of real-people porn: shots of a twink stuffed with at least one cock at either end. **Yes. ‘Stuffed.’ We want it too. We will stuff you so full you’ll be incapable of denying us anything.**

There went Eddie’s productivity. What was left of it, anyway. He shoved his laptop and notebook aside, sat back in his chair, and rubbed his eyes. Tried to pretend his dick wasn’t already hard in his jeans and this wasn’t going to end with him pinned down again and tortured.

A tingly-tight feeling between his shoulder blades, and then Eddie’s hair was being stroked by a pair of Venom’s oily tendrils. Another pair ventured lower to work on undoing his zip.

**Shh. Relax. We’ll take care of you.**

“You always do, don’t you?”

**And you take care of us. Our perfect host. See? It feels good.**

It did. Eddie’s legs had been frozen in place as wide as they would go, and Venom was stroking his cock as languidly and gently as he was stroking Eddie’s hair. No oversensitivity, no teasing. Just pure, sweet pleasure.

**More?**

“Please.”

_More_ in this case was apparently an odd aching sensation in his nipples. Eddie saw nothing happening, not even a hint of movement under his shirt, but it felt like he’d been touched there. Was still being touched there. But not in any way he’d been touched before. He was vividly aware of his nipples, arching his back like he expected Venom to suck them.

**Without us, it didn’t feel like this.**

“N—uhn. No.” Eddie’s head lolled to one side, and one of Venom’s tendrils tapped his temple, like a kiss. “I’ve never been this sensitive. Can—”

He couldn’t say it. He could barely even think it. He found another porn image in the depths of his memory, a guy biting a pillow while his ass was breached by a woman’s strap-on, and shoved that at Venom as hard as he could.

Venom was amused. Eddie swore he could hear him laughing. **Want something?**

“Asshole.”

That was definitely a laugh that time, followed by Venom’s head materializing and hovering near Eddie’s ear.

**We want to taste, Eddie.** Venom’s tongue flicked over Eddie’s lobe, leaving a wet trail behind. **Let us taste you.**

For the life of him, Eddie couldn’t have predicted the way his body went suddenly rigid and his dick twitched and came in Venom’s loose hold. From nothing but the thought of Venom’s tongue up his ass, Venom tasting him like no one else ever had.

Venom was pleased by the reaction. His contentment hummed through Eddie like a space heater.

**Yes. We want that too.**

 

* * *

 

Once Eddie had Venom up the ass once, he couldn’t keep him out.

One minute he was making tater tots for dinner—at Venom’s request—and the next his sweatpants and underwear were being slipped down just enough for a tentacle as thin as a finger to find Eddie’s hole and push inside.

It was slick. It was always slick, and Eddie made a point of never asking what Venom had done to make it that way.

“V.” He meant it to be chastising, but the way he gripped the countertop and stuck out his ass for easier access said enough about how he really felt. He’d always liked the idea of being used like this, of having to be ready at any time.

**We know. You’re ours. We can have you whenever we want.**

With a weak moan, Eddie widened his stance and rocked his hips with Venom’s thrusts, taking and giving back.

“Do you even get anything from this? Can you feel it?”

**We feel what you feel. We want it as much as you do. Worse, sometimes.**

It took a moment for Venom’s words to make sense. Venom had found Eddie’s prostate and was rubbing against it, making Eddie’s toes curl and his breath catch. “W-worse?”

After a few more seconds, the tentacle retreated, leaving Eddie shaking and empty, still trying to roll his hips while Venom righted his clothes and then disappeared back into his skin.

**Food, Eddie. We’re hungry.**

That was part of it, being used and then left, and of course Venom knew it. Of course Venom was giving the fantasy to him, practically gift-wrapped with a fucking bow. It took another long moment for Eddie to stop undulating like a slut and get himself under control enough to pop the tater tots into the oven.

Venom fucked him again later, in the shower, with a much thicker tentacle that was more interested in penetrating as deep as possible than wasting time with Eddie’s prostate. Eddie pressed his forehead to the shower wall, letting the water roll down his back and hoping none of his neighbors could hear how he was moaning for it like he was in heat.

A second tendril wrapped around his waist and a third around his shoulders, keeping him from moving, making him just take it.

**So easy, aren’t you? Such a slut for us.**

Eddie whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. How many times had he nearly asked someone to call him that, only to chicken out at the last second, worried how cliché and stupid it would seem? He hadn’t even managed with Anne, although he’d gotten very, very close toward the end.

“Jesus. You’re a wet dream come true, you know that?”

**Only for you.**

Just like that, the tentacle was gone, leaving Eddie gaping and gasping.

“C’mon. Just a little more? At least let me get close to coming before you take it away?”

**No. Not tonight.**

The ones around his waist and shoulders remained, although their holds had loosened to something more like an embrace. Any time Eddie’s hand roamed too close to his cock, it was promptly slapped away with a growl.

Hours later, he woke from a dream about high school, something about forgetting his homework or maybe just not doing it, to find himself already pinned on his back with legs up and his ass full.

**Your dreams are boring.**

Eddie choked out a laugh. They’d talked extensively about dreams, and Venom’s response was always the same—with the notable exception of dreams that happened to feature him in one form or another.

“V. I’ve got, uhn. Mm. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow.”

**Yes. You’ll feel more confident if you’ve been satisfied.**

Venom fucked him long past the point where he had come, and although at one point he loosened his control of Eddie’s limbs and allowed him to roll onto his side and curl into fetal position, Venom still didn’t stop. Not until Eddie was half out of his mind and obscenely grateful for the thick tendril that Venom slipped past his lips, just so he’d have something else to focus on.

**Good. Our Eddie. Ours. _We_.**

 

* * *

 

Nothing deterred Venom when he was in the mood. Clothing was a nonissue, and even things like chairs or strategically placed bags posed no obstacles.

Eddie supposed it was because Venom lived _in_ him, but the reason didn’t really matter so much as the effects. Namely: the number of times Eddie found himself getting fondled and screwed in public.

**Hungry** was his excuse, which—because the two of them were well and truly meshed by that point—made a weird sort of sense. He wanted Eddie to feel as perpetually hungry and unsatisfied as he often did.

_That’s not fair_ , Eddie said, and had to bite his cheek so he didn’t say it out loud. Anne might have known about Venom being back now, but there was a difference between knowing about him and knowing when he was stroking back and forth over Eddie’s taint just to be a bastard while they were supposed to be having a friendly lunch.

Venom said nothing to that, and stroked harder. It felt wet, whatever he was doing, like a tongue, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything when Venom could materialize slick, oozy tentacles just as easy as his real tongue.

**Mm. Do you want our tongue, Eddie?**

Eddie jammed his knee into the table when something equally slick and oozy prodded at his hole. Anne looked up from her menu, wide-eyed.

“You all right?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Eddie’s voice was gravelly. To his mortification, his thighs were inching wider all on their own, no assistance from Venom necessary.

By the time they’d ordered, it was taking all of Eddie’s self-control not to squirm in his seat and rub his ass all over Venom’s long, absurdly flexible tongue. He was sweating yet simultaneously shivery, and Anne appeared more and more concerned as the minutes ticked past.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“You know,” said Eddie, seizing the first idea that came to him, “maybe not. I feel a little—” He gestured toward his stomach area. “I might run to the bathroom.”

He didn’t quite _run_ , but he did walk very quickly.

Venom’s laugh was rolling through his mind like thunder. **Is this how you think we’re going to get her back?**

They weren’t alone in the men’s restroom. One guy was drying his hands, and one of the three stalls was closed with a pair of feet visible under the door. Still, Eddie didn’t hesitate to claim a remaining stall, lock it, and lean against the wall.

He ducked his head into his shoulder, hoping his shirt muffled his voice sufficiently when he hissed back, “She’s happy with Dan, and we’re happy on our own. Now shut up and tongue me like you mean it.”

The guy next door beat a hasty retreat when Eddie started moaning, and this time his own laughter joined Venom’s in his head.

 

* * *

 

Boundaries had stopped existing between them—if they ever existed at all—a long, long time ago. They shared a body; Venom could, and often did, camp out in Eddie’s memories like they were his own private campgrounds, and he sometimes liked to hang out in different organs for reasons Eddie still didn’t understand.

So if Venom wanted to hold Eddie’s dick for him while he pissed in the morning, so that Eddie had his hands free to scratch himself or rub his crusty eyes or anything else he did when he didn’t want to be awake this early, well, who was Eddie to deny him?

But, as with every other time Venom turned his attention to Eddie’s dick, he couldn’t just stay still and let things be. He had to get handsy—or tentacles-y. One thin, wispy black tendril holding Eddie’s cock to be helpful turned into two thick, solid black tendrils mapping every inch like he’d never seen it before.

“V,” Eddie sighed. “I got research to do. The next story won’t put itself together.”

Even to his own ears, it wasn’t very convincing, and it was undermined by the way he gripped the back of the toilet and shuffled his feet wider on the floor, all but giving Venom permission to keep going.

**But you worked so _long_ and _hard_ on the last one. Relax. Play with us. Look, you’re getting wet already.**

Eddie was pretty sure it was something Venom was doing on the inside—because he’d never produced very much precome pre-Venom—but it was true: he was dripping. Every time one of Venom’s tendrils stroked from the base of Eddie’s cock to the tip, a big fat glob of the stuff dribbled out of the slit and stretched long on its way to the toilet bowl below.

Venom didn’t do much beyond that, though. The strokes were tight but lazy, more pressure than friction, the two tentacles alternating between themselves, never touching Eddie at the same time. Venom’s contented growl sounded in Eddie’s head when Eddie tried to hump gracelessly against them.

“You going somewhere with this, or…?”

The words had barely left his mouth when one of the tendrils thinned suddenly and made firm circles on the head of Eddie’s cock, that same polishing motion Venom used to drive Eddie nuts with oversensitivity.

Except when Eddie jerked and whined, Venom didn’t hold him still and keep going. The tentacle’s tip hooked into Eddie’s leaking slit and started to push.

Eddie went rigid, screwing up his face as he tried to process the sensation. It felt weird. Like a warm, squirmy worm slithering inside him, stretching his urethra in a way it wasn’t meant to be stretched.

“Uh, bud. I don’t know about this.”

Probably half a dozen tendrils of various sizes wrapped around his chest and shoulders, with one curling near his temple and another near his jaw. Not restraining him, but embracing, petting. Soothing.

**No, but you’re curious. _We’re_ curious. Such a sensitive little hole. Will it take us as eagerly as the others?**

Eddie was pretty sure the answer to that was _no_. He’d happily answered all of Venom’s knocks to his asshole or his mouth, but now his body didn’t know what to do. Still, he allowed it. Trusted Venom. He’d kept Eddie from crashing his bike, falling to his death, and burning up to ash, among other things. What was a little sounding in comparison?

“I… I need to lie down.”

Venom took control, flushing the toilet and walking them back to the bed, stretching them out supine on top of the covers. Eddie’s dick was flagging around the tendril inside it, but Venom didn’t seem deterred.

One of the tentacles around Eddie’s chest loosened and stretched so it could slip between his thighs and into his ass. It found his prostate and rubbed just as the one in his cock swelled a little wider, and it was—intense.

“Oh,” Eddie whimpered, arching up. “Shit. Fuck.”

**You like this. You haven’t even decided how it feels, but you like it.**

“Yeah.” It wasn’t really good or bad, just intense. Eddie couldn’t get enough.

**Slut.**

“Ohh—” He meant to say more, but the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t get them past all the groans and little wails as Venom fucked him, ass and cock in tandem. He tried mentally instead. _Proud of yourself? Look what you’ve done to me._

**_You_ ** **look.**

Eddie lifted his head to do just that and regretted it. It looked like he was covered in black goo: striping his chest and waist, stretching his cock slit obscenely wide, disappearing into his ass. That one image was all it took.

It didn’t even really feel like coming. It was deeper, almost painful in its intensity, but it was definitely an orgasm. As the tentacle in his cock retreated suddenly, it was followed by a rush of come that shot straight into the air and fell on Eddie’s stomach, making a mess of both of them.

A tense-tingly sensation started in his hip, and Venom’s head materialized and coiled around to lick them both clean.

**Mm. Delicious.**

 

* * *

 

Eddie was pretty sure that Venom’s insistence on watching boring history documentaries late at night was less about improving his understanding of Earth and more about getting Eddie half-asleep and pliant.

While the narrator on screen droned on about the Industrial Revolution, Venom’s forehead nuzzled Eddie’s cheek and his tongue dragged along Eddie’s jaw. Eddie’s boxers were gradually removed, and then an indistinct black mass covered Eddie’s cock and started to work it.

Eddie didn’t know exactly what it was when Venom did this. Whatever Venom was doing felt hot, wet, and stupidly good, but it wasn’t like being jerked off or sucked or ridden. It was a whole new thing on its own.

**Stop thinking. Just enjoy it. Like a good slut.**

Moaning, Eddie lolled his head to the side and let Venom lick his lips, his teeth, his tongue. Let Venom take his mouth in a sloppy kiss that filled Eddie all the way down his throat, making him gag a little before he relaxed and accepted it.

**Good. More?**

Eddie broke away to say, “No. This is…this is enough.”

Venom went back to tasting his jaw, his cheek, while he did whatever it was he did to Eddie’s dick that felt so perfect that Eddie thought he would cry. It was slow but sweet, syrupy, the same as all the thoughts in Eddie’s brain were moving now.

When he came, it felt like melting, like matching Venom goo for goo and just oozing together there on the couch. Venom touched him through the aftershocks and then kept going. Eddie groaned in protest and tried to turn away, to close his thighs and cut Venom off.

No sooner had he managed it than a tentacle was nudging Eddie’s head back around and opening his thighs again, and Eddie was still sleepy, still pliant enough that he just…let it happen. Let Venom start to work his cock back to hardness even though it made him shake and whimper.

“I know what you’re doing,” Eddie said weakly. “I’m onto you, bud.”

**Babe.**

Eddie blinked his eyes open and peered into Venom’s milky-white ones. “Huh?”

**You called Anne ‘babe.’ We saw it in your memories.**

It was as hard to keep himself from squirming as it was to think, but somehow Eddie succeeded. “No, I didn’t. I said it, what, twice, but—uhn.” Venom licked his collarbone and gave him a mental prod to keep going. “But she didn’t like it. ‘Annie’ was as far as the endearments went with her.”

As the narrator on TV went on in the background, Venom ducked his head lower to swipe his tongue over Eddie’s balls. When Eddie hissed and wiggled, Venom shifted his attention to Eddie’s cock, licking the oversensitive tip over and over.

“Ugh.” Eddie didn’t think about it too much, just chose the first word that came to mind and went with it. “Sweetheart, c’mon.”

Venom didn’t falter, much less stop, but a rush of affection hit Eddie so hard that he shuddered and gasped.

Then he spread his legs as wide as they would go, and let Venom do whatever he wanted.

 

* * *

 

**You need it like this. Dirty. Humiliating.**

If Eddie had known that giving his Muni seat to an older woman would lead to this—

**You’d still have done it. Wouldn’t you?**

Yeah, he would have. He’d have given his seat up preemptively long before the woman boarded, even. As long as it would’ve ended with him here, clinging to one of the poles like his life depended on it, trying not to show that he had a symbiote under his clothes teasing his cock slit and his asshole like a sadist. Not even trying to penetrate, just circling and tapping and occasionally nudging barely enough that Eddie can feel his skin start to give and stretch before retreating again.

His face was bright red. He could feel it, even if he couldn’t see it. And whatever expression he was wearing, despite his best efforts, it must’ve been a hell of a sight because the guy across from him was staring like Eddie was in medical distress.

_I hate you._

**You don’t.** Venom was practically purring. **We are your sweetheart. Call us that again, Eddie.**

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and choked down a cry as the tendrils gave another not-quite-push. _Sweetheart. Please._

A huff of laughter, bright and delighted. **None of your humans could do this for you. You didn’t trust them enough. They weren’t talented enough. So many years to make up for.**

It was taking everything in Eddie not to just bend over, stick his ass out, and make it really fucking obvious that something weird was going on here. At least his bag was hanging over his crotch, blocking the view of the bulge in his pants. He hoped, anyway.

**We wouldn’t hurt you. Not like that. You’ll feel only the shame you want, not the shame that hurts. They suspect you of motion sickness, nothing else.**

Eddie didn’t know how Venom could know that, but at the same time he didn’t doubt it and relaxed just a little. Let the shame of being turned on and toyed with in a crowded bus burn through him, terrifying yet delectable.

**Good Eddie. Such a slut. Tell us to stop.**

Eddie didn’t want it to stop, which Venom knew. He would say it, and Venom would ignore it, would tell him to take it. Eddie’s cock jerked and dripped, and this time he knew the precome was all him, no Venom manipulation required.

**Eddie.**

Eddie swallowed. _Stop. Please, stop._

**_No._**

Eddie bit his lip, and his cock dribbled some more.

 

* * *

 

Eddie wished he’d thought to set up a video camera or something, because this would make for a hell of a show. One that he could probably sell for a fortune to tentacle enthusiasts and other perverts.

**We don’t share, Eddie. Neither of us.**

_Fantasy, sweetheart. Remember when we talked about that?_

Eddie couldn’t speak. Even if he could stop the sobs and moans and whines that kept coming out of him, he couldn’t enunciate around the tentacle shoved down his throat. Or the one wrapped around his neck, feeling the way Eddie choked and gagged and tried (and often failed) to swallow around the one in his throat.

Drool dangled in strands off Eddie’s chin, occasionally breaking and falling to the bed, and everywhere else he was wet with sweat and with Venom, who was slithering across his skin like a snake.

Parts of Venom, anyway, the ones that hugged his torso and stroked his face. The other parts—like the sticky lengths of black that trapped Eddie’s arms above his head, suspending him from the ceiling, or the strings that kept his knees apart and his hips cocked just right—were as inert and unyielding as concrete.

Eddie’s nipples ached, feeling like they’d been plucked and twisted—and they had, a little, but not enough to be as sore and tender as they were—but that was secondary to the tentacles in his ass. Two of them, at least, although it was hard to tell whether Venom had just made them bigger or added a few more.

Either way, Eddie was gaping, stretched wider than he’d ever been before. It hurt, a throbbing sting that was impossible to ignore. But whenever Eddie thought, _Hurts, baby, please_ , Venom only puffed up with pride.

**Yes. And we love it, don’t we?**

Eddie did. _They_ did. It could hurt even worse, and although his initial, knee-jerk instinct would be to protest, he’d secretly be reveling in the pain. Knowing Venom had done it because he—they—needed it but had always been too stupid and afraid to ask for it.

_God, yes. Give me more._

The tendril in his throat plumped and twisted, making Eddie gag and drool even harder. His eyes welled with tears. He caught movement in his peripheral vision: Venom’s head branching out and grinning, his tongue swiping across his fearsome teeth.

**More? Are you sure?**

Eddie’s cock, untouched thus far, was enveloped in something hot, slick, and tight. It stroked him once, then settled near his balls and squeezed while something slender and featherlight started to sweep in circles across the tip of his cock.

Eddie cried, in all senses of the word, but from the very core of his being he shouted _Yes!_

Venom scraped his teeth up Eddie’s bicep, along his shoulder, and down the first few inches of his spine. If it broke the skin, Eddie couldn’t tell, but it did burn. Like little pinpricks of fire along Eddie’s flesh.

The tentacle in Eddie’s throat shrunk and slipped free, letting him groan and wail as long and loud as he could, but the one around his neck remained and even tightened slightly as though reminding him it was still there.

**Mm. Good hurt. Good, good hurt. You shine like a star inside when we do this, Eddie.** Venom nuzzled Eddie’s nape and licked between his shoulder blades. **A shiny, slutty star.**

Eddie jerked in his restraints but got nowhere, of course. Venom only chuckled in his ear and widened the tentacles in his ass even further, polished his cock faster.

“You’re—ah. Oh. Fuck. You’re not gonna let me come, are you?”

**Eventually, maybe. But not for a long, long time.**

Another set of tears dripped down Eddie’s cheeks, but his answering moan was just as much blissful and relieved as it was pained.

 

* * *

 

Eddie was sore, bruised, everywhere from his throat to his calves. Venom didn’t orgasm like he did—although he did experience certain aspects of Eddie’s, then took it upon himself to heighten them and echo them back, making Eddie come even harder.

He left an odd wetness behind in Eddie’s loose ass, though. Or maybe he just did something to Eddie’s perception to imitate the sensation of being full of come, because he knew Eddie liked it after the fucking had been especially rough.

Whatever the reason, it was good. He didn’t even mind that Venom still had one tendril wound around his soft cock, massaging gently, testing Eddie’s refractory period like he often did. Nor did he mind that a little pomeranian-sized manifestation of Venom was crawling all over his body, licking up sweat and come and whatever else he found.

Without even being nagged or manhandled first, Eddie rolled onto his side, spread his ass cheeks with his hands, and let Venom jam his tongue inside and clean away whatever was making Eddie feel so slick and full.

Venom stayed there, rolling his tongue in Eddie’s hole, ensuring Eddie didn’t feel empty before he was ready to. Eventually, two forceful tentacles palmed his cheeks, replacing Eddie’s hands, and Eddie let go. He pillowed one arm under his head and just let himself be eaten until his cock was twitching again, not ready for another go quite yet but testing the waters.

When Venom paused his cock massage to tease something slim and slick into Eddie’s slit, Eddie accepted it with a shiver, a whimpery sigh, and a slow undulation of his body that made all his bruises and sore spots ache anew.

**It’s difficult to resist healing at times like these.**

“Mm?” Eddie stretched long and rocked his hips against Venom’s face, taking that tongue so deep into him that he swore he could feel it wriggling all the way in his belly.

**We want to hurt, because Eddie wants to hurt, but we also want to heal, because Eddie should not be harmed.**

Eddie chuckled and then groaned, because the involuntary muscle clench did things to him. “You heal me when it matters. Leaving sex marks is part of the fun.”

Venom’s tongue slid out, but it was replaced by something harder and fatter that balled up right against Eddie’s prostate and rolled. Eddie clutched at sheets, trembling, as Venom slotted his head against Eddie’s and rubbed their cheeks together tenderly.

**Yes. We take care of us. Protect us. Satisfy us. Hurt us when we need it.** The next grind of Venom’s tentacle against Eddie’s prostate was brutal and accompanied with a weak stroke of Eddie’s still-soft cock that made him sob. **Treat us like the slut we are even when we say no. Especially when we say no.**

Eddie was nearly past the point of meaningful conversation, but he still thought it deserved to be said: “It’s—shit, oh. God. We’re talking about _my_ body, you know.”

**No, Eddie.** Venom’s voice was fond. **_Our_ body.**


End file.
